


It Started Off Easy

by beckyham



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Crismes, M/M, Real Madrid CF, hints at seriker?, i don't know how to tag these, nothing really?, some language but nothing much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4225365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckyham/pseuds/beckyham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facing Atletico in the Champions League is always a difficult task, and James' inexplicable distance makes it no easier for the confused Cristiano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started Off Easy

**Author's Note:**

> My first posting... How exciting!
> 
> Please please comment I would love hearing your thoughts. :) <3

Things between them had been difficult. They'd had a wonderful start to the season and became quick friends, Cristiano was closer with him than he was with many of the men he'd played with for a few seasons- but James was just that kind of person.

The younger man had idolized Cris for years, and when he began playing with him he was shy- but talkative nonetheless- trying to get Cristiano to open up to him, to like his company and work together smoothly on the pitch.

It didn't take long at all. Instantly they began link-ups that led to goals from both players, each man very happy with the other's play after every game.

But lately, it hadn't been so easy.

Right before the second-leg Atletico game James had pulled away abruptly without warning, and Cristiano didn't know why. He searched his mind for days, torturing himself about it. Had something happened in the first-leg game?

He hadn't scored, but neither had James, he thought selfishly.

He asked himself every day for a week: What had he done?

His worry turned quickly to anger, which reached the point where he almost confronted the boy after training, imagining slamming him into a wall and forcing him to speak, tell him what it was he did wrong.

Training sessions were long, and his anger exhausted him, morphing back into worry as the days passed. His thoughts kept him up at night, and he ended up drained emotionally and physically.

Why was James doing this?

And why did Cristiano care so damn much?

Cristiano woke up the morning of the Champions League derby tired and weak. He despised the feeling, and anger flashed violently through his mind again. This was all James' fucking fault. The selfish child, what did he think he was accomplishing with this?

Cristiano knew the game would be rough in all regards. He wasn't prepared for it, and he knew that. But there was nothing he could do about it at this point.

He sped to the hotel in his flashy new Lamborghini, careless in his driving, indifferent about the press noticing. This game was going to be hell for him, he deserved this little outburst of rebellion and anger. He almost wanted people to notice it.

...Or maybe just James.

He pulled into the parking lot loudly and carelessly, grabbing his bag and slamming the door behind him when he exited the car. Only Sergio was outside, grabbing something from his car, and he looked over at Cristiano in surprise, raising his eyebrows in question.

Cristiano felt a little bit bad, his destructive mood wasn't helping anyone, and this was a very important game. He took a deep breath, "Don't ask, please." He sighed, and Sergio nodded.

"As long as you've resolved it by the time of the game." Sergio was sympathetic towards Cristiano, but what he said was a warning. Sergio would do anything for the good of this team, and he needed to be sure Cristiano would do his work.

Cristiano understood, he didn't blame Sergio, he did the same thing. He was well aware of the importance of this game and his role in it. Sergio was just reminding him to think of more than just himself, now, and on the pitch. All in a few words, Cristiano was reprimanded for being selfish, sympathized with, and reminded of the importance of his selflessness.

How did Sergio manage that?

Probably learned it from Iker.

Cristiano nodded, "I will."

Sergio smiled and turned back to his vehicle, reaching into the back as Cris left him, walking towards the doors.

He met up with the rest of the team, and instantly some of his worries were lifted, his team had that effect on people. They were fun men to be around, and they all cared about one another. It was a great environment.

Until James arrived and Cristiano's resentment built up again. The Columbian was chatting with everyone but Cris, being overly friendly and touchy.

Cristiano wanted to scream or hit something.

The bus arrived, and they all got on, Cristiano before all the others, because he had nothing to talk about and he was ready long before the bus had even come. He hid in the back, and watched everyone else surround James. Of course it wasn't as bad as he saw it, not everyone was talking to the Columbian, but that part of the bus was the loudest, and drew Cristiano's attention there often.

Sergio sat beside him, "You can't be glaring like that when we get off the bus. In fact, not at all in front of the cameras. You know that."

"You sound like Casillas."

Sergio shrugged, "I learn from the best."

Cristiano sighed, "I know what I have to do, Ramos. Just let me do it."

They arrived at the Santiago Bernabéu, thousands of people swarming the bus, setting off lights and smoke, cheering loudly and beating on drums.

So it begins.

The atmosphere was astounding, and it took Cristiano's mind off of James as he looked out the window in awe. He still hadn't gotten used to the amazing welcomes they got for important games like these. The fan's singing resonated through the crowd, and Cristiano shivered. He couldn't let these people down.

The bus stopped and Cristiano got up hastily to avoid having to converse with any other players on the way into the stadium. Not that they'd be able to hear each other anyways through the roar of the crowd, anyways, but he really didn't want the interaction.

He was first in the dressing rooms, and first ready for the game, waiting impatiently along with Iker, who was almost always in the tunnel before everyone else.

Cris didn't understand how Iker always did this. Iker was calm, or at least putting on a good pretence that he was, and the air around Cristiano was crackling with restless energy.

"How do you wait like this?" Cristiano asked, sitting on the steps and looking at Iker, who was playing with his gloves in almost languid boredom.

"I don't have ADHD." Iker answered simply without looking up, and Cristiano rolled his eyes. Helpful. He couldn't exactly get rid of his disorder.

Other players began trickling into the tunnel on both sides, and Iker had to gently hold Sergio away from the hissing Atletico side, reminding him not to start fights before he even reached the pitch.

Cristiano stood and took his place beside James. The Columbian smiled and took his hand, wishing him luck quietly and Cristiano giving his luck back as they hugged briefly. This was what it was supposed to be like, Cristiano thought briefly before James spoke again.

"I'm going to cross a lot so be there."

Cristiano nodded, staring straight ahead at the Atletico players without seeing them. "I will be."

"Cris?" James asked, and his tone drew Cristiano's eyes to his.

Cris raised an eyebrow, not trusting himself to speak, though he didn't know why.

"You'll do great today, alright? I believe in your abilities. Eres el mejor, Cristiano." James' stutter was barely audible even though he was talking quickly, it was like he'd practiced these words in front of a mirror before saying them to Cristiano.

Cris smiled a true smile, though it was still tinged with worry. "Thank you, James." He wanted to say something encouraging in return, but he was at a loss for words. Thankfully the crowd began to sing Hala Madrid y nada más and the line began to move, so he didn't have to say anything before James turned around.

The voices of the Bernabéu sent a shiver through Cristiano, and he took a deep breath, placing his hands on James shoulders gently. James shot a smile back at him, and Cristiano felt truly happy for what seemed like the first time in weeks.

The muscle in James' shoulders was taut and hard. Cristiano resisted the strange urge to massage the tightness away, comfort him and tell him this game was nothing to worry that much over.

But he knew he wouldn't believe his own words.

They exited the tunnel and every nerve in Cristiano's body thrummed with the energy of the Bernabéu as the song pulsed through the stadium. It was the voices of the fans alone, but it sounded like so much more. They were pushing their team to an important victory, transferring the energy and passion from their hearts into their players.

Cristiano smiled with only one thought in his mind: We can win this game.

Yes, it was Atletico, and yes they'd gone a long stretch without beating their derby rivals, but this was Real Madrid. The titles said it all.

Before Cristiano could blink, the game had started. It was fast-paced and white-shirt dominated, but Real Madrid's chances up front were lacking.

30 minutes.

"James! James!!" Cristiano called loudly, knowing he wasn't really open, but it was better than nothing. James crossed it beautifully, but Cris couldn't meet the end of the cross before the Atletico defender adjusted accordingly, clearing the ball from the box.

Pepe recovered the ball so the attackers started jogging back easily, not worried about having to get back. Cristiano quickened his pace to catch up to James, "I'm sorry." He said as he got near enough that he knew the Columbian would hear.

James just glanced over at Cris, the look giving away nothing, just plain acknowledgement, nothing else. Cristiano met his eyes, searching for an emotion of some sort, but he couldn't find anything, James guarded himself well. Cristiano glanced at Pepe- who had just passed the ball up to Kroos- and turned around to get back in position for a pass.

45 minutes.

The halftime whistle blew with no score, and it worried everyone. Cristiano started to make his way off the pitch quickly, not wanting to interact with anyone in front of the cameras for fear of an improper outburst, and James caught up with him. "It's only a matter of time."

Cristiano smirked humourlessly without looking at the boy, "That's the problem."

James didn't try to talk again.

Carlo gave them a speech about how they were playing very well and dominating in every aspect of the game, but all Cristiano could think was 'Not the score'. Ancelotti seemed to sense Cristiano's gloominess, and after he let everyone else go he fell in step beside Cris.

"Don't feel sorry for yourself." He stated, but it sounded like a threat, not advice. Maybe it was both.

Cristiano just looked at him blankly.

"I know you do, don't play innocent with me. Get out there and be Cristiano Ronaldo, not this shadow of him that you're pretending to be right now."

Though he knew Carlo didn't mean the words as harshly as they came, Cristiano wanted to just keep staring at him, he didn't want to have to react. But he knew he had to so he took a deep breath and nodded shortly.

But they went another 30 minutes without a goal.

Cristiano was getting frustrated. He swore more loudly, pushed defenders a little harder, and hated himself a lot more.

James approached him this time, whispering in his ear, "Calm down, Cris. You'll get it if you slow down."

Cristiano almost spat words back at him, but quickly caught himself. His frustration with James didn't need to be brought up right now. He was more mad at himself, it would be unfair to snap at his teammates.

Plus James was right. Cristiano nodded determinedly but his voice was shaky when he spoke, "Okay," He breathed, trying to calm himself down a little before he ran back.

"Eres el mejor." James said again quietly as Cristiano jogged away, and Cristiano wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it.

75.

80.

85.

Still nothing.

Cristiano knew they had to end this. Extra time could be a death sentence. Even a 1-1 draw would mean the same as a loss.

They got a break. Finally. Beautiful play up the right side, and Cristiano was off running, chased down by too many Atletico defence. But no matter how futile it might be, he knew he had to put it somewhere.

"Cristiano!" A voice screamed from the centre, and Cris barely looked up before hitting the ball in that direction, trusting Chicharito.

He watched the ball hit the back of the net and the Bernabéu exploded.

He cheered and swore loudly, running towards Javier, but the younger man had fallen, and Cristiano was well aware of his weight, so he stopped and didn't flatten the boy. Instead he turned to the crowd and held up his arms, screaming his triumph to the sky, adding his own voice to the roar of the crowd.

They started the game again with a flurry of excitement and fear- one goal from Atletico and it would be over. But Real Madrid still played well. They played with a passion and thirst for the win that was even stronger than before.

Cristiano barely noticed when the ref blew the final whistle, but the roar of the crowd told him they had managed to beat Atletico de Madrid.

Finally.

Cristiano cheered to the heavens, glancing around him to watch his teammates jump on one another and collapse to the ground in ecstasy. They had worked hard for this win, and knew that they all deserved it.

Cristiano's eyes fell on James, who was getting up from where he'd fallen, smiling widely and applauding to the fans. Cristiano couldn't tear his eyes away from the beaming Columbian. God he was beautiful.

Cris bit his own lip in surprise. Had he let himself think that? He shrugged off his surprise easily. It was true.

He let James catch up to him in the tunnel, and caught his arm, spinning the boy to face him. The Columbian's eyes were shining with the light of the win, his face was flushed and he was panting lightly with a wide smile.

"I told yo-" James tried to say, but Cristiano didn't let him finish, cutting off the younger man's words with his lips, his hands on the boy's face, pulling him closer desperately.

Hundreds of thoughts flooded Cristiano's mind in the first second after their lips met: It felt so perfect. He needed this. He had wanted this for a long time. James might not want this. But how could he not, when Cristiano was in such desperate need of it?

Please don't hurt me now, he begged silently.

Then he felt hands around his waist and James was kissing him back with the same intensity, pulling him closer, pressing himself against Cristiano's body, moulding into him more easily than Cris could have ever expected. It felt perfect. They kissed for a long moment, revelling in the feel of each other, happiness and adrenaline coursing through their bodies.

Cristiano broke the kiss and looked down at James in awe, finally realizing why he had been having so many problems with the boy's distance over the past few weeks.

His breathing was uneven as he smiled with a complete and unguarded happiness, eyes sparkling. He controlled his breathing before he spoke, "James," he laughed a little, "you look good in white."


End file.
